


only fools

by oldasyouromens



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), set in seasons 1-2, the rest of the paladins have like a line each
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 18:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldasyouromens/pseuds/oldasyouromens
Summary: A simpler story told in three parts.(1); Foolish young heads and yearning old hearts;(2); temptation redemption you think you're so smart,(3); better together than falling apart—





	only fools

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImpendingExodus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpendingExodus/gifts).



I.

 

Here’s one thing Keith knows although he doesn’t know much: if he’s in a fight then he had it coming. Related to that on an indent in the list of things that Keith knows are two points. One is that he wins any fight he gets himself into because pop didn’t raise a fool. Two is that Takashi Shirogane doesn’t deserve any fights that come crashing on his fool head though he makes it a point to win those ones too.

 

If he could Keith would take all the fights Shiro fought in from his past and their present and (hopefully) their future. He knows he can’t because he runs on logic but really he would.

 

A droplet of sweat drips off of his nose. Shiro’s warm breath expands over the knob of his spine and in a brief moment he knows beyond all doubts that every fight he’s in _is_ his fault because he’s the one that asked Shiro to spar for one stupid crazy reason he doesn’t understand. Then he ignores himself and tries to think about how the hell he’s going to out of this.

 

“Give up,” Shiro grunts, tightening his grip on Keith’s extended arm.

 

“Never,” Keith returns. His hand clenches because it’s near his thigh and if he were wearing his paladin armour he’d just summon his sword and be done with it.

 

He twists his body in some way that seems natural in the moment that he’ll probably never be able to do again. At least it works and he's out and they get back to their mock battle; droplets of sweat slinging themselves off of their faces and Keith is looking up at Shiro with eyes intense, intense because he is intensity and because he’s simply looking up with his brow bone in the way. It would be called hooded in another form of this.

 

He wins. He has Shiro in his arms even though they’re both sweaty and could probably slide right off of each other. That’s not the point. The point is that he won eventually and Shiro always gives up when he has him in his arms.

 

Shiro’s boneless when he collapses and Keith follows because his forearm is trapped under Shiro’s weight. They lie and breathe as much as they can. Keith extracts his arm but he stays there with this man he’d do anything to take the burdens from.

 

“You got me,” Shiro says when he lifts one lazy fist into the air.

 

“I got you,” Keith says when he rests his fist on Shiro’s upturned chest. He doesn’t think he means it the same way Shiro means it because Shiro means it like _you beat me_ and Keith means it like _I’ll always be there for you._ He wonders how two people who talk to each other more than anyone else in the world or in the universe can have such a break in communication.

 

“Do you ever think,” Keith begins then stops because he doesn’t know the second half of the question. Not yet. Maybe if he stares at the non-fluorescent lights (they can’t be fluorescent if they’re alien except maybe because everywhere has the same elements but probably not because aliens are advanced and it’s not like humans use gas lamps anymore) he’ll figure it out or the thrum of deep space will spell it out for him, but for now, he doesn’t know.

 

“I try to,” Shiro says when it’s obvious Keith isn’t going to finish his sentence. He laughs at himself and Keith knows who he’s laughing at but because all four-year-olds think the world revolves around themselves he can’t help but feel offended.

 

“Stop that.”

 

Shiro sighs and stops laughing and rests his hand, the human one, on Keith’s fist on his chest. “I’m funny.”

 

“You are.” It’s an easy concession to make.

 

“The only thing I have going for me, right.”

 

Keith rolls onto his side to face Shiro and pulls out his fist from his hand to prop himself up. “You have everything going for you. You’re smart, and handsome, and funny. Any guy would be lucky to have you.” It was a conversation they had a while ago (a long while ago) and they both agreed that two gay people didn’t have to be dramatic or in a relationship to be friends. They could just be friends.

 

Shiro makes a noise like he disagrees and looks into the ceiling as if it holds answers for him. They’re alike in that way. Both of them are unwilling to go search for real.

 

“Don’t make that noise.”

 

“I’m not _handsome,”_ Shiro grumbles. “Not with my… this.” He’s referring to his arm. “Or any of these.” His scars.

 

“They’re just what makes you into you,” Keith says, lying back down and placing his fist where it used to be. He can’t feel the scars underneath Shiro’s thin shirt but he knows they’re there. “Everything about you tells everyone who meets you that you’re a survivor. Someone’s going to pity you for it and that’s probably the same person that’ll tell you that you can’t do anything because you’re damaged but I’ll tell you that you’re more than the sum of your parts, however damaged they are. Who are you going to believe, some jerk I made up or me who you’ve known for ages?”

 

“Well, I think I might believe the person that didn’t steal my car,” Shiro says and the words are each a laugh. Keith makes a face but doesn’t rise to the bait.

 

“I’m serious. You don’t have to think you’re handsome if you don’t want to. But you’re not not-handsome, at least to me and my judgement’s always been a little screwy.” The accent comes out there and Keith forces it back down since no one ever takes him seriously when he talks like that. “It’s just. They’re stories of your experiences. They’re your history, which sucks, because it was painful and hard. But you made it through because you’re strong. You’re stronger than anyone I know, Shiro. You’re the only person I know who could come back to me with those scars.”

 

He sort of wants to say _you’re the only person I know who could come back to me at all_ but he knows it would be too self-deprecating. This is Shiro’s moment. His own personal tragedy has no place here.

 

He doesn’t even know if he himself could come back if he had received those scars. Maybe he wouldn’t, though he and Shiro are cut from the same fighter fabric, because if he had been taken then there wouldn’t have been anyone for him to come back to.

 

It doesn’t stop him from knowing that he would take Shiro’s burden anyway. As much as he could until he died and then more than that. It’s easy to pile responsibility onto a corpse, even your own.

 

Maybe he would’ve come back. If there’s one thing he knows it’s that he always wins a fight.

 

II.

 

There’s another thing Keith knows that he doesn’t think about and pretends he doesn’t know because he can sweep it under not knowing much. Shiro is temptation, not just related to sex but when he makes chocolate cake and offers the spatula to lick off raw batter, he’s something innocent and maybe not sweeter than sugar but definitely sweeter than nutmeg or allspice, definitely.

 

Keith likes to watch Shiro just when they’re both existing. Sleeping, resting, eating, left to their own devices. He wonders if Shiro wonders if he hates him. He didn’t use to look at Shiro like this which he knows. Shiro’s raw cake batter flavor of temptation is a new thing for him even though they’ve known each other for some amount of time before this. Maybe he has a crush.

 

It would be wonderful to have a crush.

 

Shiro’s still holding out a spatula full of raw chocolate cake batter that isn’t actual cake batter since they’re on an alien ship but he’s starting to look at Keith like he was making a mistake. Keith takes a second to wonder why more people don’t look at him like that more often and then he takes the spatula and licks it clean.

 

Hunk is watching them interact. He let Shiro scrape the batter into a cake tin because he was begging to do something in the kitchen. Keith can tell he regrets it since Hunk is never too subtle about what he’s feeling. Most of the cake batter is in the pan it needs to be in so he’s not sure _why_ Hunk regrets it but maybe it’s just because he hates Keith. He’s half-convinced everyone on the ship hates him but that’s most likely wishful thinking.

 

They wait and wait some more and when it’s ready the cake is delicious, for an alien cake. As decadent as chocolate cake should taste and as luxurious as chocolate cake should feel. They probably shouldn’t have been eating it since they were trying to keep in shape but Shiro’s special brand of temptation was one thing Keith couldn’t say no to.

 

Keith’s in charge of cleaning up so of course he wonders why such an advanced alien warship doesn’t have like dishwashers or anything. He licks the back of his teeth to see if there’s any of the chocolate taste left over.

 

Keith does a lot of things for one crazy stupid reason he doesn’t understand. He should be training and he feels guilty that he’s taking a break instead because he’s the last line of defense before total universal domination and here he is trying to get a stubborn piece of whatever Hunk used to make his cake off of the mixing bowl.

 

Shiro’s watching him, which is why he knows to say “Be careful with that thing, Keith.”

 

“It’s not coming off.”

 

“You could just let it soak for a little bit.”

 

Keith uses every ounce of his strength to scrape the rough side of the sponge (which is remarkably similar to earth sponges) to try and get those stupid stubborn particles off of the bowl. When he gives up he does so with a sigh.

 

“Dishes doing you in, huh,” Shiro says, grabbing a spare dish towel and getting to work drying. “Don’t worry, they have a tendency to get the best of us all.”

 

“Bastard dishes,” Keith grumbles, filling the bowl with water and setting it aside.

 

“Be kind,” Shiro gently chides. “You don’t know what they’ve gone through.”

 

Keith makes a wordless noise and watches Shiro dry things. It’s painfully domestic and he wonders if he’ll ever be able to do domestic things like this with someone he loves. He wonders if it would feel anything like this or if he would feel at peace.

 

It would be wonderful to have a crush but for now all he has is Shiro.

 

“It was a good cake,” Keith admits.

 

“It was,” Shiro agrees as readily as he always agrees.

 

Keith does too many reckless things for one crazy stupid reason he doesn’t understand. “What’s it like to have a crush?”

 

Shiro’s smile grows wider and he laughs as he sets his dish towel down. “Does our Keith have a crush? Is it someone I know?” More than you know anyone else. “I bet it’s Hunk. It’s Hunk, isn’t it?”

 

“It’s not Hunk,” Keith snaps.

 

“It’s totally Hunk,” Shiro gloats.

 

“It’s not anyone, ok,” Keith grumbles as he crosses his arms and directs his glare to the floor. “Just, when I maybe get a crush, I want to know what it’s like so I’m not surprised.”

 

“Ah, fine,” Shiro says though the tone of his voice says that he thinks he knows more than what’s true. “Well, it’s. Wanting. That’s the main thing. A crush is different from love. A crush is wanting for selfish reasons and love is wanting for selfless reasons. If you have a crush on someone, you want them to be yours. If you love someone, you want them to be with who they want. That’s what I think the main difference between love and having a crush is.”

 

Keith looks everywhere but Shiro as a million thoughts run through his head. He knows he’s got the foolest head in the universe but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. He’s reckless for sure and impulsive beyond belief but he’s not stupid enough to not realize what his feelings are especially if they’re laid out in front of him like this. He’d rather have a crush than be in love but that’s not the way the cards fall, is it.

 

If Shiro’s right then Keith’s been in love since he realized what he wants. Keith indents the list of things he knows and writes _I love Shiro_ and hides that knowledge as deep in his mind as he can.

 

“Ok,” he says because he needs to say something.

 

He’s not looking at Shiro because if he does then he’ll know by the expression on his face that he’s doing the wrong thing. That he’s acting like someone who doesn’t know what he’s doing which is mainly because he doesn’t. It’s an alienating feeling and it’s made more so because the person whose face it’s on feels alienated themselves because the same exact wrong feelings are going on in their head.

 

So because he’s not looking he misses the look on Shiro’s face.

 

“Did that help with your crush?”

 

It’s worse now so no. “Yeah, thanks, Shiro.”

 

He turns back to the dishes and squirts soap onto the sponge and goes back to work and ignores the way Shiro’s gaze burns a hole between his shoulder blades. The whatever had been on the mixing bowl came off easily now.

 

“Are you sure?” Shiro asks quietly.

 

“Yes, Shiro, I’m sure it helped, and everything’s fine so don’t worry,” Keith says. He thinks he’ll die if this line of questioning is pursued any further. Somehow this feels like an argument even if they’re on the same side of things.

 

He’s not looking so he misses the look on Shiro’s face. He’s tempted because Shiro is temptation but maybe this time, just this time, he’ll resist.

 

III.

 

There’s one last thing Keith knows in the list of things he knows and that is that he will always be devoted to one man. He’s a God-fearing Christian as much as the next person that goes to little desert churches on Sundays but even the man upstairs, the Good Lord the Guiding Light and whatever other flowery term people use to describe Him or Her or Them, comes second to Shiro. At least to Keith who has already decided he’s going to hell.

 

Shiro’s worth going anywhere for.

 

Sometimes he wonders if Shiro is an illusion. When he smiles, and it could be golden sunlight or alien fluorescent light spilling over him mind you, Keith wonders how such a perfect person could exist.

 

He knows Shiro isn’t perfect by the most technical definition of the word but that just makes him more perfect in Keith’s eye.

 

They stare at each other for seconds that pretend to be hours. Keith puts his hand up so he doesn’t have to look at Shiro and says, “Sorry, I shouldn’t be here.”

 

“No, it’s ok,” Shiro says as he rises from his bed. He’s fast and he’s in front of Keith before either of them have time to think. “What’s up?”

 

Keith is tempted to lie and say something like _I got lost going to my room_ except he spent twenty minutes in front of this door thinking he’d have enough courage to say what he needed to say. Words have always been difficult for him and standing in front of Shiro makes them even harder.

 

“Nothing,” Keith says because he doesn’t have courage at all. The floor grabs his attention and doesn’t let go.

 

“You can tell me anything,” Shiro says in that gentle tone of voice he uses for scared animals. “You’ve been on edge lately, if there’s something up then you can tell me. I promise I won’t judge.”

 

Keith glances up. Shiro’s got a look on his face to match the tone of his voice because he really is talking to a scared and jumpy animal with the way Keith is feeling right now.

 

He tries to stop it but his eyes jump to Shiro’s mouth.

 

Well. He’s always been bad with words.

 

He has to stand on his tiptoes to press their lips together, he has to squeeze his eyes shut so he doesn’t see the disgust or the anger on Shiro’s face. It lasts a second that feels like a year, or an eon; in the space of that time Keith is tense, and then he’s scared, and then he loves this so much he has to tear himself away.

 

Shiro doesn’t move and Keith doesn’t look at him.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says and he doesn’t know where these words came from because they weren’t coming earlier, “I shouldn’t’ve—I’ll just—go.” He steps back into the hallway and he’s still, he’s _still_ not looking at Shiro because he’ll never be able to ever again.

 

“Wait—!” Shiro says but it’s not enough to stop Keith from walking away. His pace is fast enough to get him away and alone but it’s not fast enough to be qualified as running. In retrospect this is a mistake because Shiro catches up quicker than Keith is prepared for.

 

“Was that—?” Shiro can’t finish his sentences and Keith can’t blame him. He doesn’t think a single one of his heartbeats have been fully carried out since he kissed Shiro.

 

“I’m sorry,” he bites out. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was a—mistake.”

 

Shiro stops and Keith stops with him. They’re just standing in the hallway in front of empty rooms and looking at each other except Keith isn’t looking at him.

 

“A mistake?” He sounds hurt.

 

“Even if it wasn’t,” Keith says even if it pains him to admit the possibility, “we shouldn’t. We’ve got responsibilities and you have a f-fiance and this would just fall apart."

 

“Keith,” Shiro says and it sounds like his heart is breaking.

 

“So,” Keith says because he tries to ignore it, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It was wrong of me.”

 

His hands come up to hold onto his arms in a facsimile of a hug. He’s never really known comfort beyond what he gives himself.

 

Shiro’s hands join his own on his arms. “Keith. Look at me.”

 

There’s a visceral reaction to the words that has Keith squeezing his eyes shut and fighting himself. He doesn’t want to see whatever is on Shiro’s face. He can’t. It would destroy him.

 

He looks.

 

Shiro’s staring at him and written on his face are the things Keith told himself wouldn’t be there. The first thing he sees is acceptance and then he sees the crow’s eyes that are starting to form at the corners of Shiro’s eyes and then he sees a returning of feelings.

 

“Oh,” he breathes, as it’s all he can do.

 

Shiro leans down and pauses right when they can start to share breaths as if to ask permission. Keith closes his eyes and touches their noses together and allows Shiro to press their lips together. The pressure is a soft thing and it’s only for them.

 

People have kissed before, time and time again, but this time feels like the first and only time any human or alien has ever thought to do such a marvelous thing; it’s something intimate and new and it blooms between them and around them and through them until there’s nothing left but them.

 

Keith pulls in a shallow breath through his nose and breaks. His lips don’t feel puffy, they feel kissed; he doesn’t feel new, but he feels known.

 

“Oh,” he says again, because it’s the only thing he can say. For the first time in a while, he feels like a person again. Like he’s a whole entity instead of two warring bloodlines strangling him to death from within.

 

Shiro’s hand comes to rest in Keith’s hair. Keith can’t look away. He can’t do it, not from such a marvelous man.

 

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this happy. He’s always been devoted to one man.  He didn’t know how nice it would feel to have devotion in return.

 

IV.

 

He knows he said the last thing he knew was devotion, but now that he has Shiro in his arms he knows one final thing. He’s already been to the edges of the universe, or what he thinks they are, and he’d follow this man there and back and he will never let go. It’s devotion and a culmination of the rest of the things he knows in a different form.

 

Flying Red is indescribable. Keith’s never been good at words so he can’t describe it, but it’s like home, it’s like feeling the desert wind in his hair and watching the desert moon while bonfire sparks fly over it and past it, it’s like howling with coyotes and it feels like a wild thing and it feels like he’s the god of small things that all mean the world to him. Flying Red feels like protecting all the wild things and the small things and the wicked things that need protecting too.

 

Every time he flies he feels the need to scream his happiness to the stars. Sometimes he does, too. He’ll put the rest of his team on mute and stand up and scream his joy into the vast emptiness of space like he used to scream his joy into the vast emptiness of the desert.

 

He wonders if there are worlds out there that no one has discovered yet. Maybe one day they’ll find the center of the universe and set up there and work their way out, meeting each world and figuring out what makes them work, all the uninhabited ones and the living ones and witnessing the glory of each sun.

 

They’re flying in their lions because flying in the Castle sometimes gets tedious when Keith spots something out of the corner of his eye. It’s a band of red and gold and blue and green and white, mostly white with the colors bleeding out of it like ink in water. It thrums and somehow Keith feels it in his soul, everywhere from the soles of his feet to his heartbeat aligning with the bass.

 

“Guys,” he says as he turns to look at it, Red mirroring his actions. He can’t look away. “Check it out.”

 

The rest of them are silent as they gaze at whatever it is. It has a way of pulling them in, and makes Keith feel smaller than anything else he’d come across in the universe so far.

 

“What is that thing?” Pidge breathes. She’s made of questions and Keith doesn’t mind it this time because he’s wondering the same thing.

 

“I don’t know,” Allura says from the Castle. “I’m not seeing any readings from beyond it.”

 

Keith leans back and folds his hands over his stomach. “Whatever it is isn’t going to hurt us.” He knows that in his bones, though he’s not sure how he knows. “It’s going away from us.”

 

There’s a moment where they can hear Pidge breathe and tap out something in her lion, and then she says, “He’s right.” She sounds surprised and Keith doesn’t know if he should be offended or not.

 

“Let’s just sit and watch for a little bit,” Keith suggests. “I have a feeling this is something we’ll never see again.”

 

“Something very few people see,” Coran says, and it sounds like he’s agreeing with him. “You’re right, Keith. I’ve heard stories of this place. Few people ever see it and never twice.”

 

“So? What is it?” Lance asks.

 

“The edge of the universe,” Coran says. He sounds as awed as Keith feels.

 

“Oh,” is all Keith can say. It’s the last anyone says as they soak it in. It’s like a never-ending sunset, constantly shifting and moving and bleeding out into the water.

 

Shiro sends Keith a message, a private one, with only two words. Keith’s up and out of his lion before he really thinks about it, but he can’t bring himself to regret it.

 

_Come here,_ the message reads. Keith would go wherever Shiro called him to.

 

The Black Lion’s hatch is open, welcoming, and Shiro stands under it with a smile on his face. He pulls Keith into a hug as soon as he’s able.

 

Black is a different feeling from Red. Red is wild and unpredictable, the scorching sun of the desert, while Black is an all-encompassing phenomenon of an eclipse. It is two voices singing in harmony and a ripple spreading across a clear pond in all directions. Keith feels as at-home here as he did in the Garrison. It isn’t, but only because it isn’t _yet._

 

“Hey,” Shiro says. He opens their helmets and presses a kiss to Keith’s forehead. “I thought we could watch this together.”

 

The edge of the universe is a wonder to behold, but the man in front of Keith is a million times more beautiful.

 

The chair Shiro sits in falls back and the monitors at the window fade away, giving them space and an uncontested view of the edge. Keith feels the thrum in his bones and leans into Shiro, wondering if he feels it too.

 

Their arms wrap around each other. Keith’s head finds its way onto Shiro’s unarmoured chest, and he looks up at his face, lit by the soft glow of the edge. He recognized it before, but it’s doubly as obvious now, that when Shiro smiles, he’s too perfect to be anything but manufactured imagination. Keith finds he doesn’t mind.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Shiro murmurs, drawing Keith closer to himself.

 

“I wonder what’s beyond it,” Keith says, because he does. It could be a parallel universe, or something so small they can’t comprehend in the same way they can’t comprehend the universe for its largeness.

 

“I don’t think there’s anything beyond that,” Shiro says. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? There’s potential behind this but there’s nothing else. It’s growing as we watch, spreading existence and life, but it’s up to us to make sure it keeps going like this.”

 

Keith wonders if Shiro saw the same things in him when they first met, or if he thought that of his own self before the aliens. There are stories behind everything, behind both of them, but the edge and whatever is beyond it has no stories, only witnesses, only beauty, such beauty.

 

They sit and watch. It’s odd to watch something that isn’t moving, but don’t people stop and stare at paintings in art galleries? Don’t they lie and watch the sky move and breathe miles above their heads? People stare at the stars in the nighttime, they go out and they make something of it if they live in the city while people like Keith simply look outside and gaze for as long as they want.

 

It’s a grand thing. Kings are grand, as are galaxy-spanning empires, exploding stars, yet this quiet moment Keith lives in, existing and breathing at the edge of the universe with the man he loves and who loves him back curling into him, this moment is grander than all of them.

 

Years later, he’ll look at Shiro’s sleeping face, still in the morning but breathing, existing in peace, and he’ll think the beauty of the edge of the universe is nothing in comparison.

 

Every fight he’s been in was his fault, but every second of peace was fought for with tooth and nail. He will stare at this brilliant and soul-expanding thing as long as he can.

 

Shiro grabs his attention with a brush of fingers through his hair. “Hey.”

 

Keith smiles and snuggles closer. “Hey.”

 

Shiro tangles and untangles his fingers in Keith’s hair. “Love you.”

 

Keith watches the edge of the universe unfold for a minute before he speaks. He feels a void in his soul he didn’t really know existed fill as he watches it. It’s the same void he felt when he watched sunsets, and the stars, back home.

 

“Love you too.”

 

It’s only three simple words, but Keith means them more than he’s ever meant any words before. He loves this man who he followed to the very edge of the universe.

 

They watch, and watch some more, and each second is a painting so stunning that Keith understands what people mean when they say something takes their breath away.

 

This is the first steps of something unfathomably old. Keith is protective of this gigantic, fragile thing; it needs him, now more than ever. It needs his friends, and the family he’s not sure he has, and more than anything it needs the man sitting next to him.

 

So Keith can say he’s followed his love to the edge of the universe. It’s a hundred percent true and indisputable, he’ll tell his kids and their kids and anyone who’ll listen to him about the edge of the universe, a place almost impossible to reach and even harder to exist next to.

 

He doesn’t know how long they stay there for. Shiro and him kiss once or twice, soft things to show off to the universe that they are here and they are love and they will protect this expansion until their dying breath. Walk on, universe, and we will watch, and we will guard.

 

It is going away from them, spreading itself further and further into oblivion. They watch together as the riot of bleeding colors got too small to see, until the edge was a single thin line in the black of space, all the stars and their worlds behind them; they watch together as that small thin line spreads thinner and thinner until it is barely a shine, and then it is so far away that they can’t pretend to see it anymore.

 

Keith squeezes Shiro’s hand, and he is satisfied.

  


 

 

 

 

End.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading!!
> 
> This was a commission for my good friend [Exy](http://impendingexodus.tumblr.com)! (My commission info is on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spinsters_grave).) I'm so glad I was able to write this for her, I had a lot of fun and pushed my writing style in a different direction. So thank you so much to Exy for being an amazing human being!! Also a shoutout to my friend Cath for beta-reading this even though she doesn't like Sheith. (ur the real MVP cathowo.)
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://spinstersgrave.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/spinsters_grave). Comments and kudos are always appreciated!! Thank you so much for reading, again!!


End file.
